


Sweetheart | Bryce x Hunt

by aenwoedbeannaa



Category: Crescent City Series - Sarah J. Maas, House of Earth and Blood
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:53:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23280502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aenwoedbeannaa/pseuds/aenwoedbeannaa
Summary: “There was an angel in her apartment. Which meant it must be any gods-damned day of the week. Which meant she had joy inher heart, and her eyes set on the wide-open road ahead.”A disgustingly sweet fic about what happened when Bryce makes it back to the apartment.
Relationships: Hunt Athalar/Bryce Quinlan
Kudos: 169





	Sweetheart | Bryce x Hunt

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** this is pure smut. like, **_a lot of smut_**. also, spoilers for Crescent City. 
> 
> **A/N:** So, here goes my first attempt at writing a fic  
> that isn’t for The Witcher. I just… Really had to know what happened when Bryce  
> got back to the apartment, ok? Hope y’all enjoy! 

> If you enjoy my work and want to see more, you can check out [**_my tumblr_**](https://aenwoedbeannaa.tumblr.com/), where I post all of my work. I also have a [_**personal tumblr**_](https://katwoedbeannaa.tumblr.com/) where I post original writing and other things. Thanks, as always, for reading my work. It means the world.

  


##  **Sweetheart**

“Burning Solas,” Hunt said, cocking his head to the side as he watched Quinlan practically throw open the door to their apartment, letting Syrinx off his leash as she shut it behind her with a shove of her hip. “You’re out of breath.”

“What an excellent observation, truly. The 33rd would be in shambles without those observational skills of yours,” Bryce countered, smirking at him as she kicked off her running shoes and hopped up on one of the bar stools at the counter.

Hunt gave her a smirk right back, sliding a plate with fresh eggs, bacon, and two pieces of toast across the table to her, “And _you’d_ be in shambles without me here to cook you every meal.” Despite his joking tone, he felt that familiar tightening in his chest—the one that always happened now when he thought about Bryce, about the future that they now actually have a chance at sharing. 

“Cooking seems like old people shit,” Bryce countered through a mouth full of eggs. “Something I should try when I’m around a hundred or so.” 

“Mhmm,” Hunt said, leaning over the counter, bringing himself closer to her. “Sure.” 

Bryce looked up at him, batting her eyelashes, “What, want a bite?” She plucked one of her bread crusts from the plate and held it up to him in a fake offering. 

But that bat of her eyelashes, those golden eyes of the Autumn King… of the Heir to the Starborn Fae, made him forget about their conversation entirely. Instead of reaching for the scrap of food, he wrapped a hand around her wrist, which seemed impossibly small for someone who just defended the whole of Lunathion from a whole hoard of Hel’s worst.

He grinned when he saw her eyes dilate, when he could fucking _smell_ what that one touch is making her think about. Encouraged, he leaned in as close as the island counter would allow and purred, “Yes, Bryce Quinlan, I’d like a bite.” 

Bryce, already breathless as she looked into the lust-darkened eyes of the angel, chewed on her lower lip as heat crept into her cheeks. Still, she managed as snarky a response as possible. Because that was her personality, and because she enjoyed this game she and the male played too much to let it go. “Then why don’t you take one, Hunt Athalar?” 

Hunt growled, raising goosebumps all over her skin despite the rising temperature of her body. He didn’t let go of her wrist, simply held onto it as he stepped around the counter until he was standing face to face with the half-Fae Starborn that he’d waited his entire life to find. He tugged her wrist gently, pulling her to her feet.

“I think I will, Quinlan,” he purred in her ear before placing a kiss in that place right behind it that he knows makes her knees weak. He let his tongue sweep over the skin behind her earlobe, savoring the involuntary gasp that escapes her lips. _Those lips_. 

He pulled her closer, flush against him. For once, she was silent, just staring up at him with the stillness of the Fae—a stillness that evaporates to nothing the moment he presses his lips against hers in a hungry kiss. They’ve waited so long for this moment; Hunt is pretty certain that he cannot bear it any longer, and from the way Bryce pushes herself against him, opening her mouth to his greedily exploring tongue and the soft moans that get swallowed up by his hungry mouth each time his tongue sweeps along her own. 

Bryce sighed softly when Hunt’s wings unfurled and enveloped her, feathers soft against her arms. His rain and cedar sent enveloped her completely—she could smell nothing else. She didn’t want to smell anything else. This, _this_ is the only thing Bryce could ever want. That bargain, that promise to live out life quietly, not pissing off any Asteri, didn’t seem like such a bad idea after all. 

When he moved his lips to her neck, Bryce couldn’t stop the moan from escaping her lips as her head titled back, giving him more access. Hunt immediately took advantage of that, dragging his lips across the sensitive skin there, letting his tongue dance over it, making her melt into him, a series of contented sighs escaping her lips. 

As soon as he felt her hands gripping his shirt, attempting to pull it over his head through her half-stupor. He pulled away, a predatory grin on his lips as he surveyed her—all breathless, golden eyes slightly glazed over. If it was possible for him to get any harder, that sight alone would have done it. _Fucking Hel_. 

Despite the fact that his pants were uncomfortably tight, he wrapped one hand around each of her forearms, pushing her arms down to her sides as he fixed his eyes on her. She’d probably call him an alphahole for it later, but she didn’t seem to mind at the moment. She just looked up at him, eyes full of hunger and need and… _love._ She was the only one who ever looked at him like that. His chest tightened, hoping that she could see that same feeling reflected right back at her in his own eyes. 

He clicked his tongue, pinning her arms to her sides as he leaned to growl in her ear, “Did you forget, Byrce Quinlan? I still haven’t had my turn yet.” 

With that, he wrapped his arms around her, lifting her with ease. As she wrapped her legs around his waist, she did what she could to grind her hips against him, needing to feel him, even with his clothes in the way. She grinned as Hunt groaned, pressing his lips against hers in a bruising kiss even as he carried her to the bedroom, breaking the kiss only to toss her onto the bed. She shivered at the look he gave her then—like he was studying every inch of her body as if he wanted to memorize every part of her, like she was worth memorizing. 

The only sounds in the room were their heavy breathing. There was nothing that needed to be said. Bryce watched as he pulled his shirt off, revealing the body that could only belong to the former _Umbra Mortis_ , a member of the 33rd that could rip apart demons with ease. She chewed on her lower lip, resisting the urge to tackle him to the ground so she could drag her hands across every inch of him and then explore it again with her lips. 

He dropped to his knees before her, hooking her legs over his shoulders so he could pull off her leggings. Her stomach fluttered, heat pooling in her core when she realized what exactly he was about to do. 

_“Do you taste as good as you smell, Bryce?”_

He echoed his words from a few weeks before, though that seemed like an entire lifetime now. Bryce could not resist echoing her own words back at him, “ _Please find out.”_

Hunt flashed her another predatory grin from between her legs, eyes locking on hers. “Still so demanding, Quinlan,” he teased, letting his fingers gently explore, caressing the skin between her thighs and the place where she was so desperate for him to touch. 

And then she whimpered—fucking _whimpered_ —and Hunt lost the self-control he had been so desperately clinging to. Bryce was too proud to actually beg for him to touch her, but that whimper conveyed the message well enough. 

“Oh, _Quinlan_ ,” he purred, placing a soft kiss on the inside of her thigh, “You’re whimpering, and I haven’t even touched you properly.” Another kiss; a slight nip at the soft skin with his teeth. “I cannot _wait_ to hear what noises you make when you see what I can do with my mouth.” He remembered those noises she’d made when she’d come for him the first time, all over his hand, he’d been aching to pleasure her—so he could hear her make those sounds again. 

If he had more self-control, he’d tease her for far longer, but his patience had run out. They’d been interrupted too many damn times. So, he let his lips drift up her thigh to her center, already dripping for him. He growled, pure satisfaction, as he breathed her in; breathed in her intoxicating scent. 

Then, he finally gave them both what they wanted and let his tongue brush over her clit, eliciting several moans from her beautiful lips. He wanted to devour her, drink her in, fuck her until she couldn’t remember her gods-damned name, but he slowed himself, savoring everything--tracing feather-light circles around the little bud. 

_Gods_ , he loved watching her squirm, loved the way she gasped and mewled and tried to lift her hips up to grind against his tongue. But he held her firmly, tongue making little circles, then back and forth, building up speed but refusing to press harder. 

Bryce had no idea what to do with her arms, no idea what to do at all. She couldn’t give a damn whether her neighbors below could hear her near constant moans—and even if she did, there was no way she could stop them from escaping her lips. _Gods_ , he knew what he was doing. One hand gripped the sheets, needing something to anchor her to the physical world as her mind seemed to be off somewhere else entirely, so much pleasure flowing through her veins she thought she might explode. And then she looked down at him—his long, dark hair and his eyes, those piercing eyes that met hers for the briefest of seconds before he suddenly pressed a bit harder and her head flew back, eyes rolling to the back of her head. 

She was blind to everything except herself and Hunt and the way that Hunt was making her feel. She was so thoroughly lost in a haze of nothing but pleasure when he finally slipped one large finger inside of her that she couldn’t help the scream from escaping her lips. How long had she thought about this? She couldn’t even say. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he half-grunted. She was so tight around his finger, her walls clenching around him. He couldn’t wait to bury his cock inside her—but not yet. He wanted her to come on his tongue, wanted to taste her as she did. _Then_ he would fuck her senseless. 

He added another finger, stretching her around him and curling them right at _that_ spot. She moaned, long and loud, and tangled her hand in his hair, holding him in place, as if he had any intention of going anywhere. 

Over and over he worked her clit with his tongue, fingers still rubbing against her g-spot. Again and again he curled his fingers, finally allowing her some freedom to move her hips, increasing the pressure to exactly where she wanted it. _Gods_ , he could do this all day. 

_“Hunt,”_ his name sounded so sweet coming from her lips, especially like _this._ “Fuck!” 

For the briefest of moments, he lifted his head, though his fingers continued curling mercilessly against her g-spot, “You going to come for me, sweetheart?” 

Bryce practically fucking _howled_ as Hunt closed his lips around her clit and sucked it gently into his mouth, tongue dancing over the bundle of nerves. That, and the way he said _sweetheart_ , had her screaming as her orgasm ripped through her. 

She spasmed around his fingers and her back arched, lifting her rather impossibly high off the bed, hips moving sporadically as she rode out wave after wave of her orgasm. 

Hunt couldn’t stop the moan from escaping his lips as he felt Bryce clench around him. The noises she made, the way her body moved. All of it was perfect. 

Bryce watched, breathing heavily, as Hunt removed his pants, taking his boxers off with them. Her eyes, seemingly of their own accord, went straight to the whole length of him. She’d felt it through his clothes plenty of times—enough times to realize… Well, he’s a Vanir male, so of course he was huge. 

Her face turned bright red when he caught her staring, a shit-eating grin on his face. “See something you like, Quinlan?” 

Bryce pulled her shirt and bra off in an effort to buy herself a bit of time but managed to keep her face entirely serious as she stared back at him, “I do, _Athalar_.” 

_“Good,”_ Hunt purred as he settled onto the bed above her, gray wings unfurled slightly. He nipped at her hear, tracing the shell of it with his tongue. He was too busy savoring the sound that she made to realize that she’d managed to snake her hand between them, wrapping it around him and making him groan. 

With all of the self-restraint he had left, he shook his head, removing her hand. “Oh no, I still have plans.” 

“And why do we always have to follow _your_ plans?” Bryce sassed, eyes shining. 

“Doesn’t seem like you’ve had any complaints about them so far, sweetheart.” 

Now it was Bryce who was caught off-guard, heart racing beneath the star now permanently on her chest. She’d been too busy staring up at him, letting her hands run over his strong shoulders and the rippling muscles of his back. She hadn’t noticed him position himself at her entrance until he’d pushed in, making her gasp.

Hunt pressed his lips to hers as he eased himself into her, giving her time to adjust to his size. She sighed in pleasure, beautiful eyes fluttering closed and then open again. The feeling of her hands running over his chest, his back, one tangling in his hair, combined with the feeling of her so tight and warm around him, had him seeing stars. He had to force himself to take measured breathes as he pushed in and out of her, refusing to let this end too soon. 

It is all a flurry of lips and tongues and teeth crashing together as Hunt inevitably quickened his pace, drawing a series of moans and several soft whispers of his name from Bryce. His Bryce, the woman with the power of an ancient star in her veins, who brought such joy to his heart. 

Hunt brought his lips to her neck, breathing in the scent of her hair as he quickened his pace, one hand moving to her hip, adjusting that he goes deeper, deeper every time. 

Bryce lost all control over the sounds coming out of her mouth. Every time he slammed into her, he managed to hit all the right spots. She was pretty certain she’d lost her mind completely—where it went, she had no idea. Somewhere up in the clouds, probably. And then he moved his hand from her hip, letting his thumb find her clit, massaging the bundle of nerves with the calloused pad of his thumb, moving in rhythm with his trusts. Nothing has ever, _ever_ felt this good, this right. 

“Hunt…Fuck…Don’t stop, I’m—”

Hunt Athalar had zero intention of stopping. With one final thrust, he groaned, burying his face in her neck as he comes, unable to stop himself once she started to spasm around him.

It takes several moments for him to come back to his senses and roll over next to Bryce, who looked still half-gone as well. He pulled her against his chest, letting his fingers brush through her soft red hair, his chest rising and falling in time with hers. He had never, _ever_ been this happy; so full of hope for the future. 

He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, breathing the words that she already knew to be true, “I love you, Bryce Quinlan.”

She grinned up at him with those brilliant amber eyes, “Love you, too, Athalar.” 

But even the joking tone couldn’t hide the pure feeling in those words. 


End file.
